


Whispers

by MagnetoTheMagnificent



Series: Flufftober 2020 [13]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is just enough of a bastard to be worth liking, BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley's Plants (Good Omens), Other, Sickfic, Stubborn Crowley (Good Omens), kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:13:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26988034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagnetoTheMagnificent/pseuds/MagnetoTheMagnificent
Summary: Crowley isn't supposed to be speaking while his throat is healing, but he's never been one to listen to instructions.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Flufftober 2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952344
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	Whispers

Technically, Crowley wasn't supposed to be speaking. He was still recovering from the last big regurgitation, which tore up his throat. Thankfully, he was able to get out of bed again, and walk around the cottage. But he still wasn't supposed to speak until his throat had completely healed. Forced silence can be very frustrated to a demon that relies so much on his voice. 

While he was stuck in bed, Crowley was unable to tend to his plants. Now, he stalked around the greenhouse, attempting to rely solely on his glaring eyes to scare the plants into behaving.  
It wasn't working. He just didn't feel as intimidating when he wasn't growling. 

"Please…." he whispered pathetically.

"Please start growing." 

That was how Aziraphale found him- almost crying, hoarsely whispering threats to his plants. 

"Crowley!" Aziraphale scolded. 

"You're not supposed to be speaking, darling. You'll reopen your wounds." 

Crowley hung his head sadly. 

"But the plants," he rasped.

Aziraphale glanced at his plants, which had indeed become slightly wilted and yellowed. For anyone else's standards, they would still be considered healthy, but not for Crowley's standards. Crowley had the highest botanical standards. His plants had to be perfect....or else. 

The angel sighed. 

"Is it really worth hurting yourself for?" he asked gently. 

Crowley bit his lip guiltily, and Aziraphale laid a soft hand on his shoulder. 

"How about I do the talking for now?" he suggested. 

"You can't threa-" 

"Ah ah. No talking, my dear." 

Crowley pouted.

"I'm sure I can just be just as threatening as you," Aziraphale smiled. 

Crowley gave him a look that said, ' _oh, really_?'

"Watch," Aziraphale said confidently.  
He brought his halo out slightly from the celestial plane, and his irises expanded and glowed. It was just enough angelic might to instill fear. 

"Now see here," Aziraphale said sternly to the plants. 

"You _will_ grow better, taller, stronger. I command you to do so." 

As Crowley watched in awe, his plants began to stand straighter and greener. He gaped, in surprise and in admiration of his partner.  
Aziraphale winked triumphantly at him. 

"You see, dear?" he smirked. 

Crowley shook his head in defeat, but smiled fondly at him. 

"All you need to do is ask," Aziraphale told him softly.


End file.
